It's Not Easy Being Green
by Inscriber
Summary: Most heroes have someone else to be when the mask comes off. But not him. He was and always would be Garfield Logan, which can be a bit of a downer sometimes. It's not always easy being green.


**It's Not Easy Being Green**

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**Summary: Most heroes have someone else to be when the mask comes off. But not him. He was and always would be Garfield Logan. It's not easy being green.**

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The thing about most superheroes is that their masks come off – they have a life beyond the spandex and capes, an identity outside the confines of their costume. Robin can slip off his domino mask and return to his life as Tim, Batgirl close behind as she removes her own black cloak and emerges as Barbara. Blue Beetle can fold up his armor and go back to being normal-everyday-teenager Jaime, and Bumblebee just grows to fit her clothes to become Karen Beecher. Superboy doesn't even have to do anything, he just turns his shirt inside out and _boom_, he's Connor Kent. Miss Martian is a shapeshifter, and all she has to do is _think_ and she can be whoever she wants, shifting into Megan Morse without even blinking an eye.

But he was trapped behind a mask that never came off; he could be any animal in the world, but at the end of the day Garfield was trapped into a single identity.

He eyed himself in his mirror, his gaze critical as he analyzed his green fur, twitched his long green tail, examined his canine teeth, and studied his piercing, unnaturally green eyes. He was an animal. He always would be. He'd never go out and have a public life, never go to school, never go to the mall – he was _green_, for Pete's sake! He was green. He had fur. He had a freaking _tail_!

His mom had said he was special, that people were jealous of him and his amazing 'sister'. She said he was lucky to have the abilities he did. Garfield had believed her until people came after them, until they wanted to open him up and see the mutant genes inside. Then it hadn't been so _special_ to be a freak. A mutant. Martian blood wasn't _fun_ anymore, it was a cruel exchange for his life. All the running, all the hiding – his mom had had to give up the animal farm; he'd lost his home, his friends, his world. All because he was furry. Because when he was eight he'd been stupid and gotten himself blown up, and because Megan had donated her unique blood so it could merge with his own. Because he could turn into any animal in the world. He was being hunted like an animal, hiding and running.

And it got worse. It got so much _worse_.

They'd killed her. They'd killed his mom. They'd stolen away _everything_, _everything_, _everything_ – and he'd lived. Because at the last moment he'd changed into a bird, flown away on instinct as his mother fell. As the car went over the side of the cliff, tossed so carelessly by a roadside bomb – it'd made such a horrible, _final_, sound as it landed.

She hadn't even screamed. She'd just…She'd just…She was just _gone_ – and he was just _flying_ over her, watching her blood spill into the water. He was an animal, a monster, and he'd just let his mother _die. _

At her funeral, he'd whispered _sorry_ to her closed casket so many times that his jaw hurt. He'd said goodbye until his heart had shattered. He wanted to tell her he was going to be better, that he'd make her proud, and that he'd never lose anyone again. He wanted to apologize for being so stupid, for becoming Beast Boy, for putting her through so much pain. He wanted to tell her she was the best mom in the world, that he'd always love her, that he'd miss her. He wanted to hug her and make her okay. He just wanted her to be with him. But all he could do was hang his head, burying his face in his stupid _green_ hands as he prayed that wherever she was, she was happy.

Then the Team had taken him in, and Megan had told him it wasn't his fault. Everyone had sat him down and told him how it was a natural thing to do, that escape was instinctual, how he couldn't have saved her, that she wouldn't have wanted him to crash with her – and so many excuses that he felt the weight smash into him, all the lies making him feel claustrophobic because no matter _what_ they said he knew that he could have saved. If he had been smarter. If he had been faster. If he would have been _anything_ except what he was, she would be alive; he could be anything in the world except what he needed to be.

They took him to Africa, and he scattered her ashes where the animal farm used to be. That's where she would've wanted to be, on the wide open plains of the savannah. Free.

All of his teammates had someone else to be, had some other life to live, but not him. He was and would always be Garfield Logan. He would always be the kid who got himself blown up. He'd always be the kid who'd been hunted like an exotic animal. He'd always be the boy who couldn't save his mother. He'd always be an animal.

He couldn't go to school.

He couldn't go out with his teammates.

He couldn't have friends outside of the League.

He couldn't do _anything_. He was _stuck_ as Beast Boy. _Stuck_ as the biggest failure in the planet.

Garfield Logan stared at himself in the mirror, touched his furry hand to the reflection and sighed, his tail twitching in disappointment.

Everyone else had someone other person to be, but not him. He would always, _always_ be Garfield Logan.

And it wasn't easy being green.


End file.
